Frostbite

Twelve

Joel praised her considerably, just as it was with Leland, there had been doubt in his mind, he had almost been more prepared to punish her; seeing that she had delivered pleased him greatly. He knew from the beginning that Anissa was strong, that she had an assertiveness, a willful nature, despite how timid and innocent she was, all she needed was a little push. She had done it, he'd never been more proud of himself, and now she had the privilege of watching the transformation. They had set up in the same room that Hal was locked up in, the one where she had received her new eyes, strapping the victim down to the table. Anissa should have felt uneasy but, surprisingly, she felt right at home; she was interested in seeing the process. Mentelbourne's people were there to do all the work, Anissa and Joel were simply there to observe. They injected the man with all three drugs, just as they had with Hal, claiming it would help with the transformation, the difference was that they knocked him out right away; there was no telling if he experienced the same amount of pain as the therapist had, at least, in Anissa's opinion, it wasn't visible. The point was to first change him physically, modify the human form into something monstrous, albeit, in Joel's mind, majestic. The subject's ears had to be stripped off, synthetic pieces sewn on to simulate the elongated, pointed ones of Anissa's vision, and the nose almost completely removed to replicate the dry, tight, bat-like skin, staples were implanted into the forehead to create wrinkles, a solution used to dehydrate the cells. His head was shaved, electrolysis, his eyes manipulated to appear beady, dyed black with Dominion, every physical feature distorted, his body tanned.

Once the external changes were complete, a process that took hours, although Anissa hardly noticed, being so drawn into the imagery of the alterations, Joel halted the operation to examine the work, scrutinizing every detail; this was going to be his new form, his immortal suit, and it had to convey power, it had to consist of everything Mantelbourne held deep within him, everything he ached to unleash. Of course, this had been a test run, a quick work of the final product, the prototype, therefore there was a lot that could be improved, but, overall, the look was perfect; seeing the outline of his vision right there in front of him fueled his determination, it stimulated his desire to go through with his own transformation. If anything, his excitement had tripled.

In a state of awe, Joel managed to find himself standing beside Anissa, a hand drifting out to crawl deftly up her back, a stifling sense of exhilaration radiating from him that sent a shiver up her spine, "Look at that..." came his smooth voice, soft and quiet, his breath hitting her neck, "Look at what you've created. I couldn't have done this without you, Anissa."

Staring at the deformed man, she let it sink in, the fact that she was responsible for his morbid transformation, not single-handedly, she wouldn't have done it if Joel hadn't, in her mind, forced her to, but she had played a major role in the abduction and reconstruction of the unsuspecting victim. It should have made her feel ashamed, and it did, a lump caught in her throat at the thought of what his reaction might be if he were to awake, the horror and confusion he'd be faced with, the amount of pain he'd be in from enduring full body surgery, the humiliation of living life as a mutilated creature, but she couldn't help being impressed by such astounding work, or feeling proud that she had been part of something so revolutionary; she had gone through with something that had forced her to step outside the bounds of conventional science, and, as far as she knew, this was the greatest accomplishment of her career.

She vaguely felt Mantelbourne's fingertips making their way lightly down her arm, leaving behind a prickling sensation, until his hand loosely gripped onto hers, pulling abruptly; causing her to step forward with him. Suddenly a cold piece of metal was placed within her palm, and her pointer finger absently scaled the edge, her brain processing what it could be; she came to the evident conclusion that it must have been a scalpel.